


rainbow road

by orphan_account



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Enemies to Friends, M/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,264
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24822910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Lee Jihoon finally believes that Monday hates him.
Relationships: Kwon Soonyoung | Hoshi/Lee Jihoon | Woozi
Comments: 2
Kudos: 62





	rainbow road

**Author's Note:**

> this fic is dedicated to pammy it's her birthday today! i hope you enjoy reading this! <3

Lee Jihoon finally believes that Monday hates him.

Monday gives him presents in the form of unfortunate events - a series of tragedies that will last until dismissal. Monday knows how to get into his skin. How to unnerve him. If it’s feeling extra nice, it will stretch Jihoon’s bad luck until Friday. 

(Although Friday offers him a breather, it’s just as bad as Tuesday, Wednesday, and Thursday. All four of them are traitors for turning a blind eye on his mishaps.)

  
  


For this week, Monday skips towards Jihoon with a box in its hands. 

Inside it is rain and the realisation that he doesn’t have his umbrella with him. It makes him jump from where he stands, has him frantically slinging off the backup to run his hands into the spaces between his things. 

Books, notebooks, pencil case. Phone, earphones, wallet. Water bottle. There’s supposed to be two cylindrical things inside. 

On cue, his brain starts chanting a series of profanities enough to summon a demon. 

Jihoon can almost sense Monday, like the little fibber is it, cackle before skipping away, clicking its heels in the process. He looks back at its retreating back and swears - yes, he _fucking_ swears he will have his revenge. Something along the lines of spite. And the realisation that he really has no choice but to deal with the damage.

( _Fuck,_ he cusses mentally.)

He shifts his weight to the other leg, looking up at the gray sky. It’s raining hard and fast; it blocks out almost all sounds, that Jihoon can’t hear voices nor footsteps. Just a few seconds ago, thunder claps and resonates across the surroundings. 

He glances at the sky again and squints. The sad clouds continue to weep; helpless.

Hah. Could be lyrics material. 

He’ll be here for a long time, that much he knows. So he turns his heel and heads for the library. 

He loses himself into lyrics that can complement his earlier thoughts, when a voice booms through the corridor.

“Lee Jihoon?”

_Oh no._

“Hello? Lee Jihoon?”

Jihoon’s spine is rigid; he’s stone-faced as he walks faster. The library is the first door when he turns to the first corner. He can glare at this human who continues to call out to him in various ways. Seriously, when will he stop?

Alarms start blaring inside his brain. Mini versions of himself run around in panic. Others sink to the floor while holding their heads in their hands, and others flat out scream while spinning in their computer chairs. They are all sensing the same thing: the biggest threat he has yet to face--

“Hey, Jihoon!”

A hand clamps around the said boy’s shoulder. Jihoon whirls at the face of Kwon Soonyoung.

Collectively, the mini versions of him faint. 

Jihoon’s face scrunches up.

(From a distance, Monday chacha slides to the left, spins on its tippy-toes, and ends its little performance with its _jazz hands_ extending outwards.) 

Kwon Soonyoung scowls back. “What’s that look for?”

“Because some doofus is disturbing me.”

“You’re not even doing anything.”

“I was busy breathing.”

“Well tough luck, chief, because you’ll have to deal with it.” Jihoon is disgusted with the way Kwon Soonyoung looks victorious when he isn’t close to winning this banter at all. Oh, he will _so_ get that bastard for this--

“What’re you doing here anyway?” Kwon Soonyoung tilts his head. He steals a glance at a loud group who run past them, laughing at the top of their lungs. Then he turns back to Jihoon. 

“I was going to the library,” Jihoon replies. 

“For?”

“Ever so curious, Kwon?” Jihoon glares at him, then sighs when Soonyoung stares at him, unfazed. “I was waiting for the rain to pass. I forgot my umbrella.”

Soonyoung snorts, but Jihoon expects that. He crosses his arms and eyes the former warily. “What are you still here for? Don’t you have rehearsals?”

Soonyoung shakes his head and turns back, away from the library. Jihoon follows a little soon after. He turns to Soonyoung expectantly. Clearly the boy has forgotten that they have been talking; he can be as focused in classes and enamoured in dance, but casual conversations shorten his attention span to that of a goldfish.

So he nudges Soonyoung. “I asked you a question.”

He snorts when Soonyoung recoils a little. “Oh yeah. Sorry. Our Mondays are free.”

They never really talk outside of class because they have their own group of friends. They only talk when they’re groupmates in projects, which means that inside the classroom, they argue for a good ten to fifteen minutes on who should be the leader, on how to split the topics equally to each member. They may not show it, but they both know that the others enjoy witnessing their buffoonery. The two of them only ever think about strangling each other.

 _We’re not...arguing_ , Jihoon thinks to himself as he approaches the entrance of the school. _It’s new. It’s definitely new. And weird. This is so weird, what the fuck._

“Hey Jihoon.”

The boy looks up in question.

“Let’s go home together.”

Silence. It drapes itself on them awkwardly belly-first. And then it shifts its body from side to side, quite confused on which spot is best to lie down on. The two boys look at each other quietly, for a few more seconds, until the realisation drops itself like a dynamite into the ocean.

.

.

.

.

_“What!?”_

  
  


-

  
  


Despite the ongoing rivalry between him and Kwon, Jihoon knows deep in his heart that this is only practical. 

But he can refuse to acknowledge that for as long as he wants. 

So here he is, standing shoulder to shoulder with his classmate and enemy. Kwon Soonyoung is the literal definition of a worthless upstart, who doesn’t fail to rile Jihoon up whenever given the chance, who raises his hand whether or not the teacher is asking for it, and is loved by _everyone._ For what, being a goody two shoes? Just because he has the charisma, is active in class, smart, maybe even good-looking--

 _“Oh, so you admit that I’m all those things?”_ Asks a voice that dangerously sounds like Soonyoung. Jihoon purses his lips and tries not to scream right there and then.

The actual Kwon Soonyoung stops walking abruptly. Jihoon blinks a few times to wake himself up a little. He is not being brought to the intersection where his route goes to the left; he is a few meters away from the door of the convenience store. Its lights are already on, ready to welcome exhausted travelers.

“Carry this for me,” Soonyoung mumbles. He doesn’t wait for a reply, already pushing the umbrella handle to Jihoon. The latter scoffs to himself as he folds it and shakes the water droplets away. He follows Soonyoung inside, bows slightly to the cashier, before he loses himself in the aisles.

He’s choosing between snacks when something stands out at the corner of his eye. It’s a hot chocolate machine - stocked to the brim, paper cups piled tall. He looks around as he searches for a taller figure. In a span of a few seconds, he finds himself listening intently to someone humming a song. It sounds like a SHINee. He shrugs and takes all three snacks and walks up to the hot chocolate machine. 

“Soonyoung-ah,” he calls.

The boy appears in a matter of seconds, plastic dangling in one wrist. His eyes are wide in confusion as he looks back and forth between the wheel inside the machine, and Jihoon’s deadpanned face.

“What do you want?” He shoots. Jihoon huffs. As hostile as ever. 

“Here,” He says instead, stretching a cup of hot chocolate for Soonyoung. The latter takes it wordlessly, reaching out to take a cover. Jihoon tries not to recoil when their fingers touch. He can imagine an opposing scenario playing in his head, where he drops the hot chocolate on Soonyoung and he yells in pain. It’s partly satisfying. 

He only realises belatedly that Soonyoung is still staring at him. The distance between them is a little close, enough for Jihoon to see the little details in Soonyoung’s uniform, enough for Soonyoung to see the red flush across Jihoon’s face. But he can do so much more if he leans _a little closer--_

“Thanks,” Soonyoung finally says. He steps back, until he’s walking away. “Go pay already. I wanna go home.”

Jihoon doesn’t realise that he’s holding his breath until he finally exhales.

  
  


-

It’s been a silent walk for a while; only footsteps and the pitter-patter of the rain are heard. At least it’s calmed down a little.

Personally, Jihoon is okay with this. More than okay, actually. But even without glancing at the other boy, he can sense how he fidgets non stop - fiddling with the strap of his bag, ruffling and brushing up his dark locks. 

Jihoon sighs. “Out with it.”

So Soonyoung starts talking. 

He complains about the newest batch of deadlines - the precal worksheets and the quiz that will follow them; the far too many essays and his own part in a report that’s due in a week. He ends his series of complaints with a harrumph, placing his hands on his hips. 

They stop walking by then. Jihoon eyes him - partly warily, partly amused. “You done?”

Soonyoung whirls at him. “No.” By the time they start walking again, Soonyoung has started to discuss the dance club’s recent rehearsals for the upcoming school event. 

“We’re almost done with the song that Minghao and Chan did a remix of,” he says. He succumbs to his own thoughts, before suddenly jolting and turning to Jihoon. His eyes are alight with excitement. “Maybe you can check it? Like, see if it’s okay?”

Had Soonyoung asked him inside the classroom, Jihoon can picture it perfectly: he’ll have Soonyoung run twenty laps or so around the entire field, then have him answer for all Jihoon’s lunch meals for a week. But first he’ll narrow his eyes and regard Soonyoung warily, before smirking and huffing smugly, and say--

“What do you say, Jihoon?” 

The said boy blinks. He turns to him and nods. “Yeah. Yeah. Sure,” he stammers. His face has gone hot and he looks away, rubbing the back of his neck. “When do you plan to send the song? I might help with the mixing… if you want.”

_Wait did I really just say that!? I offered him help? Woah woah woah--_

“You’d really do that? That’s okay with you?” Jihoon is sure that Soonyoung has sounded unsure just now. Honestly he can’t blame him.

“Yeah, I don’t mind,” Jihoon mumbles. He shoves his hands deeper in his pants pockets and purses his lips shortly. “Band’s up for a presentation too. … And we just need some polishing, so I have free time.”

The moment he turns back to Soonyoung, the boy is smiling. Jihoon’s breath hitches and his stomach feels funny. This is the bare minimum that Soonyoung has done, and he’s confused why he’s mentally putting up a celebration with glorious trumpets blowing in joy over Soonyoung’s smile. He’s seen the boy smile countless times for the past years, and they have been all abominable, making Jihoon resist the urge to throw Kwon’s body out of the window and grin victoriously in exchange. 

As bad as Mondays go, it bears yet another gift in the form of a too familiar voice that resonates across the walls of his mind, chortling, _“What’s with you, Lee?”_ And that voice forms a face, and then a body, and the Kwon Soonyoung in Jihoon’s head cranes his neck and laughs. The cage of butterflies inside his stomach rocks wildly. The insects inside are getting more restless.

“I’ll send the audio by tonight,” he says. “Thanks, Lee.”

The moment is done. Jihoon snaps back to reality. The voice fades abruptly and there is no more projected image of a particular boy, no cage of butterflies inside his stomach. He only hears the rain and their footsteps.

“No problem-- hold up. Why are you following me?”

They stop walking and turn to each other.

“I’m following you?”

Jihoon points at the street and frowns. “This isn’t your way home, genius, you were supposed to go the other way.”

Soonyoung blinks innocently. “I’m taking you home, remember?”

Funnily enough, a certain western country song plays itself inside Jihoon’s head, immediately vanishing the flush across his cheeks. 

“Can’t you feel droplets hit your skin, Lee?” _Ah._

“Can you shut up and keep walking?” _Hah._

“Fine.”

“Fine!” 

And so they do. 

  
  
  


-

  
  


Soonyoung walks him to their front porch. It’s a silent stroll as they blatantly avoid each other’s faces. When Jihoon clutches the screen handle, he gives Soonyoung a small nod.

“You didn’t need to go out of your way to walk me back,” he says.

That much they both know, yes, but Kwon Soonyoung still goes out of his way to smile like he’s a newly crowned victor - smile lopsided and taunting as he shrugs. 

(Monday peeks from the gray clouds and watches the two boys with amusement dripping from its face. Jihoon knows so.)

“Then don’t forget your umbrella next time, yeah, Lee?” He laughs when Jihoon flashes him both of his middle fingers, eyes wide and threatening as he mouths _fuck you_ over and over again. 

Jihoon doesn’t know why he stays a little more to watch Soonyoung walk away, nor why he smiles the moment he finally enters his abode. 

But hey, today isn’t that bad. 

Soonyoung isn’t that bad.

(Maybe he’s gonna let Monday off the hook for today too.)

  
  
  



End file.
